


Abandoned Companion

by TheSigyn



Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-23
Updated: 2010-05-23
Packaged: 2018-04-03 22:05:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4116475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSigyn/pseuds/TheSigyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sarah Jane is taking a bus ride home, and runs into an eccentric stranger with deep sad eyes and a wildly vivid coat. Takes place after The Five Doctors and Trial of a Time Lord, respectively. Sixth Doctor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Abandoned Companion

  
  
It was a lovely day in London. Nice enough that Sarah Jane could almost forgive the mechanic who had failed to fix her car for making her take the bus. She supposed it wasn’t entirely the mechanic’s fault — K-9 had an affinity for motorcars, and kept trying to link up to their computers. The fact that they didn’t HAVE computers was a fact that Sarah Jane had been utterly unable to instill in the twenty-fifth century robot dog. He kept insisting that they did, and he had the records to prove it. Of course, his records didn’t go all the way back to 1984.   
  
So she got on the bus to head back home while the mechanic worried away at the electrical system of her poor mini. Her eye was immediately drawn by a passenger sitting near the back of the bus. Even looking at him almost made her break into a laugh. She controlled her face as the stranger caught her eye, but she just had to ask. She couldn’t help it.  
  
“Off to a birthday party?” she asked, coming past his seat.  
  
His brow furrowed. “What?”  
  
“The coat,” Sarah Jane said, sitting down on the seat beside him. “Is it a bet, or are you actually a clown?”  
  
“I think the joke’s on me,” he muttered. “No, not a clown, exactly. More of a fool.”  
  
She smiled, thinking of the tradition of the wise fool. “So where are you headed, in your motley?” she asked. “Got a good gig?”  
  
“Not really,” he said. For a jester or fool, his expression was not amused, not even sardonic, and his eyes held such weight....  
  
“You know, for a man in such happy colors, you certainly look miserable.”  
  
“You can tell?”  
  
“You’re not hiding it very well,” Sarah Jane pointed out.  
  
“I’ll bet it’s hard to hide things from you,” he said.  
  
Sarah Jane chuckled. “You don’t even know me, and you’ve summed me up right quick. So what’s the matter?”  
  
“I lost someone,” he said dully, looking down at his hands. “And I’m never going to get her back.”  
  
Sarah Jane stared at him. There was such a weight behind his words. All she could think to say was, “I’m sorry.” And she really meant it.  
  
“No, I’m sorry,” the man said, looking out the window. “You don’t want to hear the woes of a complete stranger.”  
  
Sarah Jane shrugged. “Why not? I’m a journalist. I’m always interested in a good story.”  
  
“This isn’t that kind of story.”  
  
“All stories are that kind of story,” Sarah Jane said with conviction. “Whether they’re about prime ministers or criminal gangs or aliens from outer space or just — just meeting someone important to you. All stories are the same.” She touched the man’s leg, just for a moment — and had to suppress a smile as she realized he was wearing stripped yellow trousers and really looked quite ridiculous. He was the sad-eyed clown. “Did she die?”  
  
He looked at her and shook his head. “No,” he said. “Maybe in a way. We were separated. My people... my family, I guess. They didn’t approve of my relationship with her. They made me believe she had died. By the time I found out otherwise and went back for her... it had been years. She had gotten married. It was over.”  
  
Sarah Jane was touched. It was a heart wrenching tale even without knowing the particulars. She tried to focus on the positive. “At least she went on with her life,” she said.  
  
The man stared at her.  
  
“Imagine,” Sarah Jane said. “Years. Just sitting there waiting for some guy who wasn’t going to come back? You’ve only got one life. Got to play the hand you’re dealt, not just sit out the game until you’re dead. No point in being angry with her.”  
  
“I’m not angry with her,” the man said, angrily. “I’m angry with myself, with the universe, with everything and everyone that kept us apart!”  
  
Sarah Jane looked down. “No point in that, either,” she said quietly. “Believe me, I know. Anger just poisons you. She’s gone, she’ll never be with you again. So... live your life. She did. I did. You have to live your life. Take the time you had with her, take the things you learned from her, keep them with you, grow from it, and live your life.”  
  
He was silent for a long time before he said, “You sound like someone who knows.”  
  
Sarah Jane realized she had put herself into her previous little speech. Oops. Well, no harm in saying a little of the truth. “I do,” she said. “I lost someone once. A very... very remarkable man. He had to go somewhere and he couldn’t take me with him. But he never came back. Sometimes... I wonder if he’s alive or dead. A friend of mine he used to work with says he’s definitely alive... and I did hear from him personally about a year ago, in a way. But he hasn’t come back. And I don’t think he will. He’s changed a lot... well. We both have, really. And I could be angry, or I could spend my life waiting on the shoreline like some young maiden in a Victorian ballad for my man to sail back in his ship, or I can keep going. And that’s what I’ve done. It’s what I’ll always do. Go forth and find an adventure. That’s what he always did. I’m sure he’s still doing it, if he’s still out there. It’s not like I need him in order to make a difference in the world. Ordinary people can do the most extraordinary things.”  
  
“You don’t strike me as anything like ordinary,” he said with a smile.  
  
Sarah Jane blushed. “Maybe not,” she said. She wondered if he was coming on to her... But she was not going to be someone’s rebound, particularly not for someone with a job as a comedian or a children’s actor. Or whatever he was in his motley. “But I MADE myself into something special. It didn’t come naturally.”  
  
“You are something special,” he said quietly. “I can tell. He must have been a fool not to come back.”  
  
“Like you?” she said, nudging his arm with a chuckle. “No,” she said, thoughtfully. “Maybe. He was a bit mad. Brilliant, but he didn’t always... think... all the time. Not about people, anyway. Not about people’s feelings.” She looked up at him. “What was your girl like?”  
  
He smiled, and she could tell the image of this woman, whoever she was, was laughing in his memory. “Stunning,” he said quietly. “Courageous, clever. So much passion, so much pain.” His voice sank to a whisper. “Peri.”  
  
“You miss her,” Sarah Jane said. It wasn’t a question.  
  
“Yes,” he whispered.  
  
“Whenever I miss him I look up at the stars,” she said wistfully. “The stars are everywhere. We all see the same stars... even if most of them are too far away to see.” She chuckled. Well... from Earth, anyway.... “Chances are, wherever he is, he’s looking at them too.” She was utterly overwhelmed with a sense of the Doctor as she thought about it. She could almost smell him....  
  
“Do you miss him often?”  
  
The words surprised her from her reverie. She shook her head. “Not so much, anymore,” she said. “Have faith in that,” she reassured him. “It gets easier.”  
  
He stared at her, into her eyes, and she felt almost dazed by his amber gaze. “Do you still want him to come back?”  
  
Sarah Jane hesitated. She knew she could do more harm than good to this grieving man. His woman was out of his reach, and he had to think that he could be whole without her. “No,” she lied. “No, I’m living my life. Playing the hand that was dealt. That’s the important thing. Not something that ended a long time ago.” She tore her gaze away from his eyes and looked over the rest of his face. He really was rather attractive, in a strange, mawkish way, sort of larger-than-life, and his wildly curly hair reminded her of... Well. It didn’t matter. “You can do it, too,” she said. “Everyone can.”  
  
He closed his eyes, as if the thought pained him. “Not sure I want to,” he said sullenly.  
  
“Oh, I’m sure THAT’ll make her happy!” Sarah Jane snapped.  
  
“What?”  
  
“If she’s as wonderful as you say, she’d want you to live your life, too,” she said. “Go out, meet people, do something, dance, sing, shout, help someone, don’t just sit about at home mooning over her. For goodness sake, what good will that do anyone? Least of all you.”  
  
“Do you really think anyone would care about me?”  
  
Sarah Jane was sure he was coming on to her now. “I’m quite sure there are people who do already,” she said firmly. “Somewhere.”  
  
He blinked. “Maybe there’s someone who will...” he mused. “But I’m not sure I want anyone new in my life right now.”  
  
“Then walk by yourself,” she said, noticing a cat badge on his lapel. “What was that Kipling quote? ‘I am the cat, who walks by himself, and all places are alike to me.’”  
  
He looked over at her. “You truly are remarkable...” he murmured.  
  
This was getting far too heavy. Sarah Jane glanced about for something to distract him. Fortunately, it was right at hand. “Oh, I’ve always loved this corner,” Sarah Jane said, looking away from him out the window.  
  
“Why?”  
  
“That old Police Box over there,” she said, staring at it. She was NOT going to look into his eyes again. This man was starting to feel dangerous... not in a he-might-be-crazy way but a I-might-do-something-stupid way. She knew better than to let her heart be caught again, particularly by eccentric men with deep eyes and a strange taste in clothes. That was just a one-way ticket to obsession. “Nostalgia,” she said desperately. “Memories of times past... Childhood, in a way.”  
  
The man suddenly stood up. “I guess that makes this my stop.”  
  
Sarah Jane was both relieved and disappointed. He was disturbing, but she was really starting to like him, and she had no idea why. She let herself look at him. He looked so sad, it hurt her heart. “It was really nice talking to you, Mr... ah...?”  
  
Rather than supplying her with a name he took her hand, warmly, and held it securely in his. “Thank you, Sarah Jane,” he said. “This talk has actually helped.”  
  
Sarah’s heart pounded. “You’re more than welcome,” she said earnestly.  
  
He nodded his head, almost a bow in her direction, and strode off the bus with all the self-possession of an actor. Sarah Jane chuckled. For some reason, this bus conversation with a total stranger had made her feel warm and cared for. Even talking about the Doctor hadn’t hurt this time. Maybe she really was getting better. She closed her hand. It tingled where he had touched her.  
  
It wasn’t until that evening, as she sat by her window with a mug of tea, gazing at the stars, that she realized — she’d never told the stranger her name was Sarah Jane. 

**Author's Note:**

> Also published on Teaspoon and an Open Mind.


End file.
